Sometimes as I glance through the pictures on my phone, I come across the photos of the car. I didn’t take them myself…I was on a backboard. But, the EMTs treating me took some. They posted it on their Facebook page to let the world know all of the good things they do. Some people probably would be upset, but I didn’t mind. I saved them.
Since I didn’t see the car afterwards, it was surreal to be able to look at all of the shots they took. Some of them were of the car in the ditch. Others were of the jaws of life. It felt like I was looking at someone else’s story. It still does. It’s almost like when you see a picture of yourself that someone else has taken. You recognize someone you know and then realize it’s you. You stare at yourself almost unrecognizably.
I read somewhere that pictures of ourselves don’t always look like us because we often see a mirror image of our own face. Our image is flipped around. I’m not sure how true that is, but I do think there’s something to it.
Either way, that picture still feels like it’s a story from some news article miles away. And yet, it’s so familiar. The coloring of the grass, the dim lighting, the way everything looked that night. It’s too hard to describe in words.
I still look at the driver’s side and think, “I was there. How could I have possibly been there?”
In my head I hear, “Picture this… you’re driving along the highway, when suddenly a truck tries to pass you…”